The Animal

Welcome to the thread for Supernatural: The Animal, Previously titled The Devil Made Me Do It

In which our heroes, themselves hunted by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, make their own investigations into reports of a Shapeshifter in Gallup, New Mexico, but matters begin to prove more complicated than they first appeared, and our heroes quickly find themselves in way over their heads…

Disclaimer: We tend to be a little more informal around here (as well as infernal): lax with customary RP rules, rough with our language, and generally sacrelicious. We ask only that you play nice, stick to SPN canon, don’t be (too) mean, and do everything in your power to make the game fun for everyone.

Happy hunting!

Last edited by Ariel Buttercup on Wed 09 Nov 2011, 1:12 pm; edited 1 time in total

“Rawson, you can’t open fire on the bar with that girl there! But I don’t think Rome should go up there, either. Just wait a bit longer. Maybe she’ll leave.”

“Right, Elenna, like she’s gonna leave a bar where six burly guys are offering to buy her drinks?”

The advantage Rome saw about those two arguing all the time was that he usually got to do whatever he wanted while they were too busy to notice. And protecting the civvie while his brother shot the hell out of a coven of vampires was definitely what he wanted to do.

Romulus Remington strode up to the bar with the too-confident air of a sea lion in sunglasses trying to get into the killer-whales-only dance club. Which was, depending on how you looked at it, anywhere from suicidally retarded to selflessly heroic. With a swagger that suggested an ego that was greater than his alcohol tolerance, Romulus sidled up next to the pretty blonde.

Left hand on the bar to steady himself. Right hand reaching indiscreetly toward her denim-encased and highly voluptuous backside. Sleazy grin to disarm. Cue punch-line:

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a vampire-infested dive like this?”

Six pairs of eyes suddenly focused on the region of Rome’s throat. Six pale faces sprouted a mouthful of fangs. But Rome ignored them.

“What?” the girl asked, completely lost as she turned to look at him. God, but that was adorable.

Hand firmly between flesh and barstool.

“Oh!”

Hoping the girl knew how to fall, Romulus went with her momentum as she leapt off the stool to launch her over the bar, diving over it himself just as the vampires snapped into action, which in turn was only milliseconds before Rawson opened fire.

Glass and booze rained down on him as Romulus crouched protectively over the blonde. Her shrieking almost drowned out the sub-machine gun fire coming from the other side of the bar as Rawson peppered the area with something he and Elenna had invented: hollow-point rounds filled with dead man’s blood. An enormously bright flash of light—accompanied by a series of screams that sounded like they came from a bunch of vampires who, for tough guys, sure didn’t have much in the way of pain tolerance—signaled that Elenna was making good use of her assets as well.

Rome slipped his Desert Eagle out of the shoulder holster under his jacket just as a click signaled his brother had gone empty. This was his cue to poke his head over the table and—

Holy crap! When did she build a flamethrower? Rome thought in alarm as he ducked back down behind the bar while a blast of fire enveloped the few vampires that were still standing. Fire was good. Rome had been in this business long enough to know that fire killed basically everything.

A few well-placed shots later, and silence fell over the bar. Apparently the bartender and the other patrons had got out okay, because there were still screams audible in the distance over the sound of the merrily crackling fire that had started up.

“Come on, we gotta get out!” Rome told the girl as he helped her stand up. She nodded dumbly and took his hand, just as Raws vaulted over the bar in heroic-action-man mode.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, Raws, I’m—”

The punch to the jaw surprised him, but only because Raws didn’t wait until they got out of the burning building to give him what was by all rights coming to him.

“Come on, we gotta go,” Raws then said, as if nothing had happened, and jerked his head toward the exit. Ducking down to avoid falling timber, Rome and the blonde plowed on, Rawson taking up the rear.

The slap in the face from Elenna was also hardly surprising. “You could have gotten yourself killed! Aren’t you always the one who wants us to have a plan before we go in?”

“I had a plan!” Rome tried, in his defense.

Okay, and the knee in the groin from the blonde was totally and completely unexpected (though, he admitted, not unwarranted). “That’s for grabbing my ass!” she cried, turning and walking away as he went down to the pavement. As he knelt there, however, desperately clutching his damaged package, she seemed to think better of her overreaction, and he heard the clicking of stiletto heels on pavement approaching. He was just wondering what it would be like to be kicked in the head by one of those things when she actually knelt down in front of him, grabbed his head and kissed him, tongues mashing. Immediately, all resentment and most of the pain were gone. She broke the kiss only when neither could breathe, and said breathlessly, “That’s for saving my life!” before getting up and walking away.

“Awesome,” Rome said, staring after the girl and only taking Elenna’s offered hand to get to his feet after she coughed several times.

“Okay,” Raws said, jogging over to them from having scouted the perimeter. “It looks clean, but the cops and the fire department will be here any minute. We hit the hotel and then get out. I want to be across the state line by morning.”

Romulus limped after his brother and Elenna as they quickly loaded up into the Mustang. It was the better incognito vehicle, and, unlike the green Camaro parked back at the hotel, wasn’t visible from space.

In the past year, they hadn’t seen or heard any wind of a rumor from Andre, or of any other demon who might know about him. Rome felt he had readjusted quite well after the trauma of the demon not only riding his meatsuit for eight months but also using it to murder his parents: he was getting good at hiding the nightmares, when they came, which was less and less now, and no human gaze, not even Rawson’s, penetrated deeply enough to see the naked fear buried behind the playful eyes and sordid grin. Anyway, killing the hosts of supernatural scum they ran across in the meantime really helped him deal with any remnant “issues” he tried not to admit he had. He hadn’t had any premonitions since the one of Elenna’s death, so he hoped the experience had been just a fluke. According to the law, Rome was alternately wanted for homicide (despite Rawson and Elenna’s best efforts to clean the mansion) or declared deceased, depending on the state and how fast he could hack into police records and scramble them long enough to get the fuzz off his back until they finished up a hunt and moved on. It felt like trying to put out a wildfire with a squirt gun, but so far they hadn’t had any problems more serious than a parking ticket, and that was good enough for Rome.

In the past year there were moments when Elenna hated to have to two gun-crazy team members, that she wasn’t allowed to listen to all the music she liked, that they stank from time to time, and that she was the only girl in the team and that they checked out every girl they met (really every girl that looked legal). She was just annoyed when Romulus did this, but every time Rawson did it she felt awkward. But all in all she was glad to have them. She would have died if she had tried to hunt that siren, and many other times. Elenna never expected after the way they met that they would actually become a team, but they did. The longer she thought about them the more she had to admit that she enjoyed being with them. It was great to have Raws, with whom she could invent something crazy like the hollow-point rounds filled with dead man’s blood, not just because Elenna never would have dared to use them herself but also because she didn’t have the know-how about guns he did. And Rome, well, he was Rome. It was weirdly cute how much he liked being a hunter. He was a great guy; if Nick would have had time to get older he would have been maybe a little like Rome, but he hadn’t, and maybe there was a reason why she had to go this way. The weirdest thing was that she changed. When Rome convinced Raws and her to stick together to hunt the siren, Elenna was scared that the boys would remind her of Nick and everything she never had. But surprisingly, it started to hurt less to be with them, and some things she hadn’t had with Nick she had now and even twice. She got more and more confident being a hunter and defending herself, so that she barely used magic. That was the best way not to become the hunted.

Rawson, in defiance of the wishes of his teammates, continued his former mercenary work on the side. So far the excuse that they could use the income was enough to get his humanitarian brother and the pacifistic girl-child off his back, although hunting the supernatural was fast becoming a full-time occupation. He had yet to marry the two—hunting the supernatural for a price that began in the upper thousands—but Raws guessed that the Venn diagram where those two worlds met was a small space indeed, where the competition was sure to be hot. Until then, the marching order was mercenary by day, hunter by night, and sleeping when he was dead.

Jena and Allison were daddy’s little girls, until one night Jena woke up screaming. Her older sister, by a year, came in to see what was wrong and walked in on a kidnapping. Both girls were taken. Allison and Jena spent 3 weeks tied up in an old warehouse near Puget Sound. At night he would take them into the woods where a group of people did strange things, chanted and cut themselves and spoke in strange voices. Aly was the lucky one—he only starved and beat her. Her sister on the other hand…one day he simply never brought her back to their cell. She never saw Jena again. The man turned his attention on her, but she was older, stronger and more resourceful. She managed to escape on one of the ritual nights and ran to a marina where she was recognized and taken to a hospital. Her sister’s body was never recovered.

Aly turned inward. She made it through counseling and support groups and eventually found herself a normal girl. Yes she beat her high school sweetheart to a bloody pulp when he’d had a bit too much beer and started to grope around—but that was rare and he should have known better.

After high school came college. She graduated top of her class in Forensic Science. From there she shipped off to Quantico for training with the FBI. Normally, with a past like hers, the FBI wouldn’t place her in missing persons—but she was the best of her class and that was where she requested to be.

After two years working missing persons she got a case that seemed similar to her own. The more she looked at it the more she felt connected. She became obsessed with finding the group who’d killed her sister—and dozens other children in satanic cult rituals across the country. While still investigating that case she is working on a current double homicide. Her only suspect is one Romulus Remington.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Special Agent Allison Wesson brushed a strand of lose brown hair back behind her ear in the hot Arizona sun. The sun was barely up an hour and yet her navy blue suit coat stuck to her arms like the heat of the day. She opened the coat and let the white dress shirt breathe. Her functional heels grated against the sand and ash.

The wind shifted bringing the stench of burned wood soaked with water. She could almost smell burnt flesh as well, but dismissed the thought from her mind. Time to go to work.

Her partner and her flashed their badges to the local police and stepped under the crime scene tape. Parts of the rubble still smoldered, fizzing with the water that dripped from everywhere. They were lucky anything survived once the alcohol caught fire. Six body bags were lined up for what remained of six charred skeletons. Whatever evidence was with the bodies it would be found by the forensic anthropologists.

“This Remington doesn’t leave much behind him.”

Her glance fell upon a glass, melted to the bar, with a hint of lipstick. She directed one of the CSIs to dust it for prints. Nothing. She had them try the section of bar next to it. A perfect handprint.

“I guess women are his weakness.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. The point is, he didn’t do a good enough clean up job this time.”

Romulus had claimed the back seat of the Camaro as his own. It had his pillow, his garbage, and his butt-groove. Rawson didn't like the idea of him driving--"Dude, it's not like I'm an epileptic! I had one weird vision thing once and now I'm not allowed to drive?!"--but he liked being able to screw around with his toys during the long hours on the road so letting Raws have the wheel, even letting him pick the music, was fine most of the time.

Law man has put an end to my running and I'm so far from my home...

Except now. Romulus rummaged around for his Blackberry--which it turned out he had been sitting on--and ID'd the song that was transmitting from his brother's iPod to the car radio. Renegade, by some old fogey band called Styx who couldn't even spell. God, his brother really needed to update his music collection. This stuff was fine when they were, you know, infants, but now?

He had been trying to research anything that looked vaguely supernatural in the vicinity of whatever desert wasteland they now found themselves in, and his laptop was in his lap and he was researching pretty steadily. He was exceptionally eager to find something because whenever they had a hunt, that was his only guarantee that Raws wouldn't go all black-ops on him and disappear for days at a time, returning with another notch on his soul and a few grand in his pocket. It was really worrying him, and he didn't know how to deal with it except to provide distraction.

He stuck a bluetooth in his ear and called Elenna.

"Yo," he said, waving his arm so that she could see him from the Mustang driving behind them. "So I think I got something." Rawson turned down his music to listen. "A headline in Albuquerque, New Mexico: 'Ugly Remington Twin's Music Declared Truly Sucky, Attractive Twin to Switch Vehicles'." He grinned wide enough for Raws to see him in the rearview mirror.

Raws cracked a slight grin. If acting like a doofus and being generally annoying was the only way to get Raws to show some emotion, well then Rome was just the man for the job.

"Nah I'm just kidding," Rome replied to the laughter loud in his ear. "I'm not too keen on Avril Lavigne or whatever crap you got on in that car, either. Listen, I've got some reported hiker deaths around Gallup, New Mexico, popping up. Mainly on the Indian Reservation, but...Raws, dammit, turn it down!"

He heard Elenna giggling on the other end. It was apparently "adorable" when they did brotherly things like annoy and beat the crap out of each other--she had said this on many occasions. The music was now blaring at an unnecessary volume, enough that Rome glanced cautiously around in case any hot chicks in red convertibles were checking him out listening to this old man crap his brother was so fond of.

Oh Mama, I've been years on the lamAnd had a high price on my head.Lawman said get him dead or aliveNow it's for sure he'll see me dead...

"Dude!" Rome protested. "You know what? That's it." And with that, Rome was in his element: illegal technology and communications work. Scooping up his PDA he hijacked the transmission and threw down some beats of his own....

Born in New Mexico during the Long Walk, Nathaniel Stormcrow grew in a time where the White Man poisoned his nation and his people. On the run for his early life, Nathaniel and his younger brother both took an interest in Black Magic - an interest each tried to hide from the other. While his brother searched for a way to protect his people, Nathaniel searched for vengeance. He sold his humanity for power, and initiated himself in the Witchery Way by exposing his brother's delvings into Black Magic to his family and murdering him. His own research remained secret.

Nathaniel itched for vengeance, amassing personal power by killing his tribe with Corpse Poison. He also applied several tattoos, using ink mixed with the powdered bones and organs of taboo animals so that he could steal their power without the need to wear a rather conspicuous animal skin (though the skin itself granted more boons than the talisman-tattoos).

He became known as Shadow That Walks to the Navajo, the Apache and the Ute Tribes, and Nightmare to the Chickasaw and Chocktaw Tribes. However, he also became known as the Shadow Hunter to those Tribes, visiting them in his human form and hunting creatures that preyed on them, so he alone could torment them and feed on their fear. After all, he needed his strength to strike at the White Man.

Nathaniel extended his life through Witchcraft and using the skins of supernatural beings, such as Hellhounds and Black Dogs. It is unknown how exactly he managed to skin apparitions, but Shamanism and Witchcraft can be assumed to have played a part in it.

Now, he has changed his name to Nathaniel Roarke, and travels the Southeastern and Southwestern United States, hunting Supernatural Beings to extend his life and foster his considerable power, killing anyone he decides he wants dead as he goes.

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Four hikers lost in the back country. Seven college students doing something different for a weekend. Fair dues to them walking the hills instead of getting drunk and waking up next to someone they don't recognise. But now they were lost. Running low on food, water and patience. At least they had their tents with them. They decided to set down for the night before someone got too narked off and stormed off into the night, which was rapidly getting cold with no cloud cover. Setting up the tents caused some shouting, swearing, and more importantly, laughter. Tension disappeared as they managed to start a small camp fire, and sat around telling ghost stories.

It wasn't long before they were laughing, but glancing nervously into the shadows nonetheless. An old local they'd met in town before heading out had claimed the place was haunted by a walking shadow or something. They were all surprised when someone stepped into the firelight, startling all of them. A tall, heavily-built Native American man with wild eyes and a thick, bristly moustache. He nodded politely to them.

"You don't sound like you're all from around here," the tall man spoke.

"Yeah, we're here for the long weekend," one of the students answered.

"How's your water looking?" the man continued.

"Low," replied another student.

"I've got some to spare," the stranger answered, setting down a water bottle, "None of you know how to find water out here?"

"Nope," a third student answered, "We're usually better prepared than this."

The stranger took a seat with the group, listening to a few of their stories. He just sat with his arms folded, nodding occasionally as they took their turns. One of them mentioned the walking shadow that haunted the region. The stranger sat forwards, suddenly animated and looking interesting. The students turned to him.

"I don't think anyone from around here hasn't," the stranger answered, "The Navajo, Apache and the Ute call him "Shadow That Walks". He's a legend in many tribes. The Chickasaw and Chocktaw know him as "the Nightmare". He is a . . . Skin Walker."

The stranger glanced nervously over his shoulder.

"Stories tell that he initiated himself in the Witchery Way by killing his own brother to become a powerful Shape Changer. Other stories say he is a vengeful spirit of the land, taking vengeance on the White Man for poisoning his existence. And other stories say he is the spirits of those who died on the Long Walk. That as long as one son of the land still walks, and that as long as one White Man still draws breath, there will always be a Shadow That Walks. He is evil and bitter. And legends say he haunts these hills, feeding on the fear he causes and the flesh of his victims. He can take the shape of any creature whose skin he wears. He could be any one of us. But, those are just stories."

The fire flickered and died with a hiss. Plunged into darkness, none of the students saw a flash of movement. But they heard a scream. When their eyes had adjusted, the stranger was gone. Three of their own number remained. A dog's growl rumbled in the darkness, chilling their bones as the deep breathing of a raging animal gradually became louder and the stench of burning sulphur filled their noses. Another scream and a beast had one of them pinned down. Her scream became a gargle as the Hellhound tore out her throat and lunged at a third victim. His desperate scream was cut off by the sound of the beast crushing his skull.

The fourth fled, tears streaming down her cheeks as she heard a ferocious bark behind her. The pounding of the creature's paws as it chased her down. The barking became growling. The pounding of a creature chasing her went silent as it leaped at her back, bringing her to the ground, it's teeth sinking into the base of her neck. The creature rolled over and over, shredding her spine and silencing her pained, desperate cries for help as it left her head barely hanging on by a thread.

In town the next night, word was out. Four bodies, yet to be identified, found butchered, their skin and organs removed. So much for State Troopers not talking about cases. A tall, heavily built Native American man with wild eyes and a thick, bristly moustache sighed and shook his head at the news.

Elenna was grinning, the boy were adorable when they fight each over such dumb thing like the music in the car.

“Dude, first of all never insult Avril; she is great. Second you know what I listen to when we take two cars, that is the time I am a real girl again. And third can we concentrate what you found? Please.”

I can’t believe that car still smells from the last time the boys had all those burgers and other stuff. Gross, my baby smells like as if I fried something in here and I still can feel the imprint of Raws’ sexy a**. I should never let him drive.

Elenna heard the music blaring from her phone. She was so nice and turned the volume down; otherwise poor Rome would have gone deaf. Even she could hear the bells in her ears from the high volume of her music. But that wasn’t really important at the moment.

“Rome serious, you have the lucky seat where you can check out new jobs so tell me what you found. I hope something where I can play the bait again, that is much more fun than saving your a**. The worries Raws always has, that just made me smile, when the tough guy shows some feelings.”

She didn’t really get a response, the music fight in the car in front of hers just continued. So she grinned and speeded the Mustang up so that the Camaro and the Mustang got dangerous close.

"Raws, pull over man," Rome shouted over the music, thumping his brother on the head.

Elenna had pulled up beside them now, and was sticking her tongue out. Raws gunned the engine. Was this maybe Raws flirting? It was a bit too predatory to be flirting. Anyway, they didn't need some stupid macho showdown in The Middle of Nowhere, New Mexico.

"Aww, hell no! You are not going to race! Pull over or I bring on the hippity-hop, so help me God!"

As if by magic or on cue, a trailer-style diner appeared on the right hand side of the road, like the Holy freaking Grail. "Look, just pull over at that diner up there."

"I'm not eating there," Raws said with distaste.

"Look, dude, fine. Just pull over so I can talk to you guys about the intel I found, okay? Then you can have your drag race. Please?"

Rome breathed a sigh of relief as the Camaro's wheel's crunched gravel as he pulled into the dirt parking lot. A few trucks, a few bikes, but things seemed pretty slow, which was, Rome guessed, pretty good, considering the size of the place. It was the middle of the afternoon here at The Shady Dive, where it was anything but shady. The heat was only marginally less oppressive outside of Arizona, and the humidity only slightly lower, but it was still painful.

Loud country music that made even Elenna's music sound like an angelic chorus greeted Rome as they entered, but the busty blonde waitress wearing daisy dukes did a great deal to improve his opinion of the place.

"You just take a seat wherever you like, hun," she drawled. Raws pushed passed him, making a beeline for the corner booth where they could talk uninterrupted. Elenna followed him quietly, leaving Rome to nod and grin widely and ask her what time she got off work before Mr. and Mrs. Impatience beckoned him over.

"You guys are seriously no fun," Rome huffed, sliding in next to Elenna and opening his laptop. "So. We got four 'animal attacks' floating around Gallup. Seems we got some kids--college students--who were hiking around El Malpais, camping, when they were attacked. Seven go into the canyon: only three come back out." Rome flipped through a few tabs on his computer, pausing briefly to show Raws this utterly mouth-watering shot of Scarlett Johansson, to pull up the news report from The Gallup Independant. "Authorities are calling it a mountain lion, I think. Well, no, sorry, that's not strictly true." He pulled up a PDF window. "Apparently to the Reservation authorities, the verdict's still out."

"Is that a police report?" Elenna gaped, hopefully shocked more at his mad skills than that he was hacking police records, because, come on.

"No, of course not, not so loud."

"Three survived?" Raws asked, arms folded. "So we have witnesses?"

"Yes and no. They all checked into the hospital after the incident...a, uh, Mandy Tucker, Steve Byron, and Lloyd Schwartz, but none of them checked out. Our boys Steve and Lloyd are dead--of 'complications due to infection' allegedly, still working on the medical records--and Mandy's in urgent care. This attack was Tuesday, not even two days ago, and her statement on the police record is majorly sketchy. So yes, we have one witness in critical condition, and a bunch of convoluted statements from scared kids."

"So why do you think this isn't just a mountain lion, or wolf or something?"

Rome grinned. "The best part about this whole thing is that two of the victims--the ones initially killed, we have a Bridgett Thompson and Louise Simmons, were actually seen after this whole incident went down. Check it out. We got Mr. and Mrs. Thompson claiming that their daughter came home that night, had dinner with them, slept and ate breakfast in the morning and left again, like nothing out of the ordinary happened. And Louise's Facebook has a post from a friend on Wednesday, the day after she was supposedly killed: 'hey, great 2 run into you today! when r we hanging out lol so u can show me pics of your camping trip?'" Rome closed his laptop defiantly and folded his arms. "Now you tell me that's not freaky. We got six people dead, one in urgent care, and two of the dead ones are walking around town like they own the place. I'd go with zombies except the bodies are definitely confirmed to be rotting in the city morgue."

Elenna stared at Rome she didn’t know what was more impressive all the ‘magic’ he can do or the fact that he just talked about some horrible death and asks now who’s hungry.

“Rome do you know that you surprise me every day?”

Elenna shook her head and took smiling the menu.

Poor spoilt Raws has to sit in this diner and we had so much fun on the road.

“Hold on. What did you say? Two of the dead victims were seen? That is awesome. That sounds like a ...”

Without telling them what she had in her mind Elenna run back to the Mustang and came back with one of her old books. She was so excited that she was blushing and mumbling on German. “Unglaublich. Kann das wirklich. Es klingt wie...”

Rome looked at Elenna and said with a smirking. “Dude. Chillax, chica. I haven't seen you this excited since that Justin Timberlake concert.”

“What?!” Elenna seemed to be totally disconnected from the world around her that she needed a minute to realize that Rome was talking to her.

“Oh yeah sorry. Okay I read this lore last night before I went to bed and it is about a Gestaltenwandler, which means shapeshifter. And that is awesome, well more for you guys. Silver bullet in the heart and that’s it.”

Elenna translated the important part from the book. “Shapeshifting , also known as transformation or transmogrification, is a change in the form or shape of a person, especially a change from human form to animal form or a change in appearance form one person to another. And to appear in the form of a person the person needs to be dead. So I bet there is neither a mountain lion, nor wolf nor something. It is a shapeshifter. That is the only explanation that the death victims walked around again.”

Elenna looked triumphant from Raws to Rome.

Sometimes I really like that we three complement one another so great.

"I think we got a problem. How the hell do we track something like this? Silver bullets are all well and good, but if we can't even find the damn thing--it could be anyone!"

Rome eyed the waitress with a new suspicion as she returned with their food, but the cheeseburger was calling his name and he soon forgot caution.

"I say we interview, um, whatshername, Mandy," Rome continued, his mouth full of cheeseburger. "She's at Rehoboth McKinley Christian Hospital in Gallup, if we can get in to see her. Witnesses live there, too: Mr. and Mrs. Thompson and this Louise girl's friend. Ask them what they saw, maybe get a lead on this...thing's MO, maybe what its true form is. We're only, what? An hour out of Gallup now? We swing by a copy place I can throw together some badges, maybe, though town that size, things might get a little awkward trying to pretend to be police."

Rome washed down the handful of fries with a gulp of Mountain Dew. Suddenly, his eyes glimmered dangerously.

“We can’t pretend to be that, do you know what the penalty of that is? I guess huge and horrible.”

She looked back at her book, she wanted to find a way how to identify a shapeshifter. But her precious book let her down. There was no answer in it. Not even a hint.

“I don’t know how we know who the shapeshifter is. But when we can kill him with silver bullets, then I think everything silver hurts him, like a cut with a silver knife or hey Rome you could give to every girl you like silver jewelry and see if they wear it or if they can’t even touch it.”

Elenna was grinning at Rome. This would mean he has to buy a lot jewelry.

“Anyway I think you are right we drive to Gallup and interview the girl and the other witnesses.”

I really don’t like the idea to pretend to be from the FBI, but is there another choice? Damn I hate when Rome is right.

“And I have to admit, I guess the cover as police officers isn’t the right one, but there is one little problem with you idea. I don’t have anything to wear for this occasion and I don’t stay behind. No friggin way, there is a shapeshifter somewhere in this town. Don’t think I ever leave your sides. These things are damn dangerous and scary as hell, by the pictures in the book.”

Elenna looked worried at the boys; she knew how stupid it was that she doesn’t like fire arms.

Maybe this is the time to change this? A picture of Nick appears in her mind. No, I can’t.

"Come on, Lennie, baby, it's only illegal if you get caught," Rome said with a wink and a grin. He searched idly for what exactly the penalty was for impersonating an FBI agent versus impersonating your run of the mill police officer, which was like comparing guppies to great white sharks and far too depressing, so he stopped.

"Okay, look, best way to get to talk to Mandy is impersonating medical officials. I'm sure I can knock up a quick Center for Disease Control identification and badge if you'd prefer? You can check out the corpses, too. And then me and Raws can pull the FBI stunt and hit up the witnesses, the Thompsons and Louise, and go from there. You game, Raws?"

"You're the one who's records are flagged in the federal system, bro, I'm not the one who should have a huge problem with this," Rawson frowned.

"Aww, come on, bro, where's your sense of adventure?" he grinned to cover the weight of the pit settling in his stomach. Somehow he felt that this was really tempting fate, but he couldn't see a better way to get to these people.

As a thoughtful silence fell, the waitress brought over the check. Rome picked it up--he was most likely of them to carry cash--and discovered a note scrawled on the bottom:

I have a break at 2:00

Rome glanced at his watch. 1:57. Oh, hell yes!

"Uh..." he looked up. The waitress was grinning shyly at him, chewing on her hair, and when she saw him looking, nodded to the back door and walked out.

Rome thought of trying to come up with an excuse. But, in the end, didn't bother, throwing down a wad of bills:

Elenna stuck her tongue out in dislike. “Lennie? That sounds like a five year old girl with pig tails.”

Annoyed smiling she said. “Romulus Remington do you know that you are unbelievable? What would you say when I start acting the way you do? Don’t forget that we have a job that needs us.”

Five minutes ago he was worried that the waitress could be the shapeshifter and now… That means I am alone again with the small talk master Rawson, he still makes me nervous.

“Yeah I do prefer to talk to the girl and check out the corps. That is much more my thing. And I am less scared of a Center for Disease Control identification and badge and what would happen to me if I get caught with a fake one, thanks.”

She went back to the car and knew that all she could do for the next 20 minutes was to wait. She sat down on the hood of the mustang enjoying the sun and reading in her book the passage about shapeshifter again and again. Maybe she missed the part how to identify the things.

There has to be a way. We can start to shoot everyone who is suspicious.

Rome was glad to find Rawson and Elenna already waiting by the cars as he quickly exited a trailer parked behind the diner, from which loud threats were now issuing.

Why did women think it was okay not to tell him if they had boyfriends? Especially large, Cro-Magnon, white-trash boyfriends?

"Okay, time to go," Rome laughed, slapping his twin in the chest as he aimed for the back seat of the Camaro.

"Dude. I'm not sharing a car with you until you shower," Raws said, in his not-joking joking way, turning to Elenna. "You take him."

"Okay, no, I just vacuumed..." Elenna protested, interrupted by the trailer door slamming open and a hulking trailer-trash flat-topped redneck emerged.

"Um. Can we please argue about this later?" Rome asked, growing nervous, then, over his shoulder, shouting, "Look buddy, just turn around and walk away, get your girlfriend to apologize. I don't wanna have to shoot you. Rednecks aren't in season till September."

As the hulk broke into a sprint, Rome flashed Raws the not-so-oops "oops" grin and swung himself feet-first into the back seat. Rawson had no choice but to roll his eyes and get into the car.

"The things I do for my moronic brother..."

"I'm telling you, I didn't know! She came on to me and didn't bother mentioning that Australopithecus was in the back room in a drunken stupor!" Rome shouted over the squealing of tires. Elenna's Mustang was already on the highway.

His phone rang, and he picked it up, "Okay, don't even start, Elenna--"

"Chill, Rome. How far to Gallup? Just wanting to know."

"Oh. Uh. 66 miles, last I checked. About an hour. Um. The way you're driving, I'll give us 45 minutes. I'll locate us a department store to grab some undercover clothes, and I'll work on the badges now." He grinned, wedging the phone between cheek and shoulder. "How you feeling about pimping the M.I.B. suit there, Raws?"

40 minutes later Elenna’s Mustang pulled on a parking lot in Gallup’s town center, the Camaro just arrived a minute later. Elenna grinned when the boys got out of the car.

“You were wrong how long it takes us. You always think I am such a slow driver. So are we now going shopping or what?”

Elenna turned into the girl she actually was, a nineteen year old teenager who was excited to go shopping with friends.

“Let’s go guys, come on.”

Elenna was pulling at Rome’s arm and smiled impatient. Rawson just rolled his eyes, he looked glad not to be the one Elenna was pulling along.

“Babe chillax, okay? Sometimes I do forget that you are a girl. But you are right so let’s go, Raws you know we need some things. So come on, it won’t take long.”

The three went to the shops and Raws finally got into the idea of shopping, when he saw the shop that would tailor him a suit for only $1000.

“That is the place we go and nowhere else. If I have to dress up, then I want not to look ridiculous.“

“Raws, you are you friggin’ insane? The tux cost there at least $1000. No one will believe you are from the FBI when you wear a tux that would cost a month pay. Let’s go in the mall there? We get all what we need there, please.”

Elenna looked innocently at Rawson. After one year she knew how to look at Rawson to get what she wanted; even though he sometimes just said no to her so that he would feel to hold the leash and not the witch-kid. But today in the sunny Gallup, she won; her brown innocent looking eyes got him. Rawson was clenching his teeth but said.

“Fine. If I have to.”

“Yes you do.” Said Elenna with the sweetest smile she always saved for Rawson.

Rome was grinning by how easy Elenna sometimes could get what she wanted from Rawson. When they entered the first shop in the mall Rome and Elenna got carried away, just a little.

“Look Lenna, what I found.”

Rome was holding up some shirts. One of them said That's what she said and some other fun shirts. Elenna was smiling.

“That is real fun. But for whom is the red one with the boobs on it? I hope not for me. I will never wear something like that.”

Rome looked a little disappointed.

“You wont?”

“Okay I try it on when you try this one on.”

Elenna was holding up a green shirt with a Teddy Bear who said I love hugs on it. For hours Elenna and Romulus tried the funniest shirts in the shop. They combined pants and skirts, just for Elenna of course, with all kind of shirts, jackets and shoes. The two of them were having a blast time, getting out of the changing rooms and laughing about each other.

“I found something. Well not for you but for Raws. What do you think? Where is he anyway? I want him to try that on. I bet it looks awesome on him.”

Elenna had a Jeans and a light blue shirt with I heart guns printed on it in her hands. They found him sitting annoyed on a couch close to the changing rooms.

“Are you done, finally? Can we go?”

Elenna smiled and sat on the armrest of the couch right next to Rawson.

“Would you do me a favor, please? Please try this on. It would look great on you.”

“Are you serious? We are here for what 5 hours? And you to knuckle heads are playing dress up. Can we do what we came here to do, like now!”

Elenna looked scared at Rawson, he wasn’t in a good mood anymore and she knew that at this point there wasn’t any way to play around with him. She whispered.

“Sorry. We were just having fun. You know we are allowed to have fun once in a while. But I guess you are right.”

“Here, this should fit. I bought all the stuff we need, let’s go to the frakking copy shop to get the frakking ID badges we need?”

Elenna stood up from the arm rest and stood lost next to it, without knowing what to do or say.

Rome grinned. 'Frack.' Does she even know what she's saying? It was clear Rawson's tendency to cuss sci-fi style had rubbed off on her. And since when did the puppy-dog eyes work on Raws? He had to get Elenna to teach him that number.

He was aiming for MIB, but when push came to shove Raws had encouraged him in the direction of something more tasteful, but Rome didn't really care, and anyway he got a Captain America t-shirt and a shirt that read What's Your Zombie Plan? that improved his mood greatly.

He clapped Raws on the back jovially as his twin paid for the merchandise on one of his secret-illicit-protected-bottomless credit cards, and grabbed the bags as they exited the mall.

"Whoa, it's dark already?" With some difficulty, juggling bags, Rome checked his watch. "All right, time to find a hotel so you two losers can sleep and I can go hit up the night life. Do you think Podunk, NM, has a night life?"

"You're not going to find out," Rawson said, in his end-of-discussion voice.

"What? Why not? Just 'cause you guys are losers and want to hide up in some sleazy dive all night..."

"First of all, I'm picking the hotel. Second of all, an FBI agent going clubbing? Way to blow your cover. Small enough town, you might get noticed. I'm not chancing it."

Rome wrinkled up his nose in frustration, but his less attractive brother was right, and he knew it. He covered up his disappointment by being a smart-ass. "Aww, you know I get all tingly when you take control."

Elenna laughed, but Raws was Stone-face Remington tonight.

Rome sighed: "Fine. Let's find a place to crash. Oh! Hey, can we go somewhere with a pool?" He brightened at the idea. Bikinied babes were better than clubbing babes 9 times out of 10.

Special Agents Smith and Wesson entered the small diner and sat down. The place reeked of burnt grease and green chile—a revolting combination. Allison had spent one long summer in Albuquerque where she’d learned of the population’s unhealthy obsession with the pepper.

She poured through the menu, settling on a cheese burger, no chile, which earned her an out of town glare from the waitress. Her partner decided to go with it. He was from New York where the only chili was red meat and beans.

“What makes it green? Do they dye it or something?”

She almost spat out her water. He would learn.

His face went about three shades of red before he forgot about his masculinity and downed his whole glass of diet coke—which of course didn’t help. She signaled the woman and ordered a glass of milk, trying not to laugh.

Allison looked up from her still coughing partner and focused her attention on the girl swabbing tables. She called her over and showed her a picture.

“Have you seen this man before?”

“Yeh, cute butt.”

“How long ago?”

“They were here around one, I think—fine-ass had a sweet ride—green Camaro—good money there,” she turned back to the man with a beer belly and an apron around his waist, “unlike you—worthless piece of—you blame me for wanting a good time for once?!”

The man only grunted and stuck his middle finger up in response.

Her partner had finished his culinary exploration for a lifetime and was already standing, taking out his cell phone to call in an APB on a green Camaro.

“You said they—was there anyone else wit him?”

“Yeh, mister straight-laced and his hoochie. She had a black stang—not bad, but not as good either.”

“Thank you for your help.”

The hick’s voice boomed. “There’a re-ward?”

“Only if you captured him.”

“I almos’ad’em.”

“Sure. You were too drunk to notice me doing another man in the next room!”

The agents took their leave of the happy couple.

“Alright, I have an APB out on a green Camaro and a black Mustang headed East on I-40.”

Cop-cars, sirens, black SUVs, helicopter, everything, trailing a very conspicuous green Camaro down a dusty desert road not unlike the one they'd driven on yesterday. Where there was no where to go.

Rawson was telling him to take the wheel so he could grab his P90 from his kit. Rome looked to the side in time to see Elenna's black Mustang hit the gravel and flip nose over end, careening right into their path. He grabbed the wheel and swerved it wildly to avoid the Mustang, only to clip into a blue sedan that had pulled up alongside them and burst into flames...

Romulus woke in the hotel room, drenched in sweat, breathing heavily.

He looked around him, immediately trying to calm himself, so as not to wake Raws and Elenna who slept in the other two beds. Raws especially was a notoriously light sleeper, but, by some miracle, didn't wake. Rome drew in a shaky breath and let out a tentative sigh of relief as he rubbed his eyes, trying to clear sleep and the dregs of the nightmare from them.

A nightmare, he nodded firmly to himself. Although it wasn't exactly fading properly, the way normal nightmares did. But then, it wasn't bracketed by those annoyingly painful flashes of white light, either. Definitely not a, um, whatever it was. Definitely a normal nightmare. A normal nightmare that made you sick to your stomach with foreboding.

About something perfectly legitimate. He had begged and pleaded with Rawson, who purported to be the sensible one, to get the Camaro re-painted, but nooooo. Plates and registration were enough, apparently, and Raws changed those often, more for his own line of merc work than the hunting thing, or even the his-brother-was-a-wanted-criminal thing.

He glanced at the clock. 5:00 am. Stupidly early, but sleep wasn't exactly desirable right now, so Rome rolled out of bed. He could go for a swim. The pool should be open at 5, he thought. Well, nothing a U.S. Grant and a smile can't open, anyway.

He had finished his laps and was just screwing around, trying to hold his breath, doing flips, by the time Raws and Elenna came down, Elenna in her swimsuit and Raws in his jog shorts and t-shirt, ready to overheat the treadmill in the gym room next door.

"Yo!" Rome grinned as they walked up, and stared appreciatively as Elenna dropped the towel from around her waist and tossed it down on a lawn chair. "Breakfast opens at 6:30," he continued, "I checked."

"Trust you to know when food's available," Raws grumbled. He always was a Grumpy Gus in the morn--yeah, well, all the time, really.

"And it closes at 8:30," he winked. "I say we try to head out before then."

"Sounds good," Elenna said, executing a perfect swan-dive into the water next to him. He ducked the splash just as Rawson nodded and turned to the gym.

"Uh...Raws!" Rome called, swimming over to the edge and peering up at his brother. Raws waited patiently but did not reply. "So, uh, I been thinking about the car again, man..."

Raws stopped, turned back, and gave him a weird look: a cross between alarm and scrutiny.

"Like, not like that," Rome tried, knowing Raws would be able to tell that he was lying, but trying it anyway. "Just, you know. It's retarded. You can see that think from frakkng Alderaan, man. No F--" he glanced around, lowered his voice in the echoey room, "no FBI agent is going to drive around in something like that. Can we get a rental or something?"

Rawson stared at him for a long time, enough that Rome--who rarely minded being the center of attention--began to feel like a bug under a microscope. After what seemed an eternity, and long enough for Elenna to become curious, dog-paddle over, and ask what was up, Raws spoke:

"I'll see what I can do," he said noncommittally, and went into the gym room.

Elenna was sitting in her car just outside the hospital. She wasn’t wearing her general jeans, top and Converse.

Something is going on with Rome, he is good in hiding what he thinks but I just know something is troubling him. Elenna remember how worried Romulus looked back at the pool. But she didn’t have the time to thing about this. She had work to do.

I look old and so not like me in this black skirt suit and I hate this shoes. And what is my name on the ID again? Elenna Walther. That is a stupid name. The whole is just stupid. I hate to do the talking, that is always the part I gladly hand over to Rome. He is the one who loves to hear his own voices saying crap.

Elenna went in the lobby of the hospital directly to the reception.

Okay girl, game face on and do what can do best, lie through one's teeth.

“Hello I am Agent Elenna Walther from the Center for Disease Control may I speak to someone in charge here, please.”

The nurse didn’t look to happy when Elenna show her Center for Disease Control ID. But she didn’t think anything was wrong with it, just the fact that the CDC is in a hospital makes the staff of it nervous.

“That would be Doctor Derec Sheperd. Just one moment please.”

I really hate the skirt and in the blazer I can’t breathe. Would look unprofessional to open the buttons of it? I guess yes.

“Doctor Sheperd, an agent of the CDC is here and needs to talk to you. Yes I tell her that. Thank you.”

The nurse hung up and looked at Elenna again.

“The doctor will be with you in one moment.”

“Thank you, I just wait over there.”

Okay I need to know what the girl saw, and also a look at the corps of Steve Byron and Lloyd Schwartz. Maybe I find something. I have no idea what I am looking for. I still can’t believe I am wearing a knife hidden under my blazer. But it was kind of cute how Rome and Raws insisted in not letting me go on my own with any kind of protection. I just hope I don’t stab myself accidently.

“Excuse me; you are the agent from the CDC? I am Doctor Derec Sheperd, how can I help you?”

Wow not bad.

“Yes doctor, I need to talk to Mandy Tucker, she is a patient in ICU. She is the girl that survived the attack of the students around El Malpais. The CDC believes a disease may cause the death of the students spread by a wild animal. Therefore do I need to see the bodies of Steve Byron and Lloyd Schwartz. And yes Doctor I know about the condition of Mandy, but it is necessary that I speak to her. So please can you tell me in which room I find her!”

Even though Elenna sounded really friendly she wasn’t asking for permission, she was giving orders and if the boys would have seen her, they would have seen a side of her which is breathe taking. Elenna gives normally gladly the talking to the boys, but she is good in it. Especially when she can, in a hot professional way, flirt with the one she is giving orders to.

“I guess I can’t say anything against the orders of the CDC Agent Walther. The girl is in the third floor Room 301 and I will call the pathology, which is in the basement, that you are coming. I hope you find out what happened to those kids.”

“Thank you, I hope so too. Goodbye Dr. Sheperd.”

Elenna went upstairs and knocked firmly at the girl’s room and entered it.

Rawson was currently holding the keys to a cheap, American made minivan. Why? Because Rome was a worry-wart and Raws was a glutton for punishment. He felt like he was cheating on his girl, sliding into the plastic smelling interior and putting keys- yes, real keys, not a button, in the ignition to start the car. He shuddered.

So help me gods, you owe me Romie. The things I do for you.

To make it worse, Rome was lying about crap again. He could tell. Not that Rawson felt it necessary to be completely open with his brother, but unless it was necessary for confidentiality agreements for a job he wasn't going to full on lie to Rome. And even then he didn't try to lie well. They could tell when the other was lying- a twin thing. Or, come to think of it, perhaps a property of the bracelets. Something worth considering. But something that Rome was willing to lie about was bugging him, and this once Rawson was willing to get a crappy ill-designed monstrosity to try to settle down his brother's freaking out.

It wasn't like anything would happen to his car, but there was no problem keeping it safely tucked away for the moment. After all, a little extra caution in care of a car is never amiss.

Alright. You can do this. It's just a few miles back.

Rawson put the car into drive, wincing at the horrible suspension, brakes, acceleration, steering and the general lack of visual appeal. He couldn't believe that all they would give them was a van. A mom's car. He swore there were Mustangs, at the very least, in the lot. And he thought he saw a green Camero.

Brotherly kindness accomplished, he parked the disgusting thing in the shade in front of the hotel, and ran in to throw on a cheap suit. He sighed. The things he did for his brother. He fastened a pair of sixty dollar silver cufflinks onto the suit.

"Oy, Romie! Gotcha a present." He tossed the keys onto the bedside table. "Romulus, you around?"

Rome was about ready to faint from relief when he saw his brother throw some crap rental keys down on the table like they were his day-old socks. Either that, or kiss him, but Raws tended not to take homo jokes particularly well, so Rome decided against it, since his twin looked in a precarious mood.

"Here's your mini-van, Mrs. Brady," Raws sneered, but Rome couldn't wipe the grin off his face long enough to be indignant. Beneath the sarcasm and the derision and playfulness, Rome spotted Raws giving him a probing look. Not taking his eyes off him, calculating.

Crap. He knows.

Knows what? That you don't want to talk about some stupid nightmare? That you're still having "issues" with the whole possession thing? That you've gotten eerily good at gambling in the past year?

There were plenty of things that Rome wasn't talking about. Which was weird--Raws was usually the strong-and-silent one while Rome did all the sharing-and-caring--but there you go. Raws was just going to have to go on wondering, unless there was something Rome thought he needed to know.

Knowing his twin was a nervous wreck that made Prozac look appetizing and pathetic look admirable was not something Rawson needed to know.

"I got a little present for you, too," Rome grinned, flashing a very official-looking ID, complete with leather wallet and silver badge, at Raws, who snatched the thing from his hands faster than Rome could follow with his eyes.

"James Hyneman and Adam Savage? Really, bro? You're not the only one who watches TV. I think someone will get suspicious."

"Oh, shut up," Rome grumbled, snatching the keys from the table and straightening his tie in the mirror. "No one even looks at those things, anyway. They see the shiny badge and panic: badda-bing, badda-boom, free ride. Let's go. You drive, I'll call the witnesses on the way."

Yes at least once I have the luck on my side and I don’t have to lie to worried relatives.

Elenna eyed suspicious the girl in the bed.

What if Mandy just “survived” the attack because this isn’t Many anymore? That is unfair, the boys are big and strong and can easily, well not easily but better, protect themselves against a shapeshifter. I am not as strong they are and I am always the one who has to go alone. Just sometimes I wish I would have a brother too, who protects me. Elenna sighed. Okay I am Elenna Walther a CDC agent, it is easy this lie.

“Excuse me Miss? You are Mandy, right? Are you awake? I am Agent Elenna Walther from the Center for Disease Control, and I need to ask you some questions about the attack.”

Mandy turned slowly her head while she opened her eyes. Elenna smiled really friendly.

“Hi, I am Elenna. Sorry to bother you, but I need to ask some question what happened at El Malpais. I need to know everything, and don’t worry I hear a lot of weird stuff. Don’t hide anything just because you think it sounds too crazy to be possible. I am on your side, I won’t hand anything you tell me to the local authorities.”

Elenna sat on the chair next to the bed and waited that Mandy started to talk.

Please don’t be the shapeshifter! Please don’t be the shapeshifter! Just be a normal girl. I don’t wanna die here while I try to kill you in those shoes, I am happy I can walk in them. And I am so not sure if I even could manage to stab you and if it really works to kill a shapeshifter with a silver knife. That is just my interpretation of the silver bullet part.

Mandy Tucker was startled from her sleep by a strange woman in a power-suit claiming to be some official and shoving a badge in her face. Not what she wanted to see when she felt as awful as she did right now. But then, it couldn’t possibly be worse than having all of your friends die in the space of three days.

“Um…Well, what do you want to know?” she began. “I’ve already spoken to the police about the animal attack.”

“They’re not looking for what I’m looking for,” the lady said, with a friendly smile. “So just tell me again, in your own words.”

“Well, I was—we were—all out hiking, you know, camping. We had a fire going. It was, I dunno, midnight or something. And this guy wanders over, an Indian guy, you know, we thought he was drunk or something. He was talking some crazy sh*t. And then—and then the fire went out. It was really weird, and then—”

Mandy choked on a sob. The lady didn’t say anything, which was kind of nice—she was sick of people's pity—so she was able to continue after she composed herself.

“And then everyone started screaming. I heard this—like a wild animal or something. It got…I heard Steve scream, and then his blood got all over me. It was…horrible.” Mandy burst into tears again, but was too weak to cry for long.

When the doctor came in, she managed to sniffle her tears away. The doctor got huffy until the woman showed her her badge. Then,

“Oh, I’m so sorry, agent. Forgive me. I—I'm Dr. Kaplan. You got my report, then?” She glanced furtively at Mandy, and then lowered her voice. “Perhaps we should talk in my office? I have all the patients’ files there."

Romulus threw his phone in a fit of toddler-like rage. It landed somewhere in the back of the van, and he instantly regretted the move, because the only thing that would improve his mood right now was playing with his lightsaber app.

"What's the matter now?" Rawson said, taking his eyes and hands off of driving to glare at his twin. "What?"

"Freaking none of our witnesses are home! What're we supposed to do, anyway?"

"We could meet Elenna at the hospital? Check out the morgue?"

That was a good idea, if boring. And gross. Raws was so taking that job. "Yeah, I guess," Rome responded, sticking his bottom lip out. He huffed out the window, chewed on his lip, thought a moment, then unclipped his seatbelt to dive into the back of the van for his phone.

It was only after he returned victorious that he asked, "Where are we, dude?"

Rome glanced at the map printed out on his lap. "We're only two blocks from the Thompson's house." He glanced to the side, meeting his brother's eyes with the you thinking what I'm thinking? look.

"We could see if they're home," Rome offered innocently, the pretense of a law-abiding citizen, "and just not answering the phone."

"Thank you Mandy for all the information, and when you remember anything else please call me anytime. Here that's my number."

Elenna handed a card with her mobile number to the girl, while she smiled encouraging to her.

Maybe I find some more information in the files. But I feel it something isn't right in this job.

"I am sorry Dr. Kaplan, unfortunately I left the office before I got a chance to read your report. But I would like to have a look at it and also I need to go through all the patient files you got, as you already offered. And after all the paper work I have to examine the dead bodies of the other kids."

My feet hurt so much. I hope I can check out the corpse alone so that I can take off the shoes. I hope the boys are okay.

Dr. Kaplan looked disappointed that Elenna hadn't read her report, but she led Elenna to her office.

"I can arrange that for you. The files are here. Do you need anything else?"

"No thank you I just need some time to go through everything, when I need more information I will contact you, Dr. Kaplan."

"Umm." Doctor Kaplan was confused. Why would the CDC send someone who hadn't read the report? Wasn't that why they were sending someone? "But you do know that we think it's smallpox, yes?"

The agent glared up from the report. "Of course. And is treatment working?"

"No," the doctor supplied, hurriedly, not wanting to give the agent any trouble. "The vaccine had no effect, and we can't keep infection down. Also, the rash has not shown up. We're not sure what to think anymore."

"What are the symptoms?"

"Well, the medical histories are attached to the report. Fever, muscle pain, weakness, nausea and vomiting--it's all we can do to keep the patient hydrated. She's literally wasting away. Autopsies on the two deceased patients were inconclusive. We've tried everything and we're completely at a loss. We have her quarantined according to regulations," she added quickly.

Dr. Kaplan waited for the agent--she didn't even get her name--to finish reading.

"Umm. Anything else?" she asked, trying not to sound as if she was busy and had other things to attend to and would really appreciate these bigwigs not feeling as though they were the center of the universe.